| |
| AS slow our ship her foamy track | |
| Against the wind was cleaving, | |
| Her trembling pennant still look’d back | |
| To that dear Isle ’twas leaving, | |
| So loath we part from all we love, | 5 |
| From all the links that bind us; | |
| So turn our hearts as on we rove, | |
| To those we’ve left behind us. | |
| |
| When, round the bowl, of vanished years | |
| We talk, with joyous seeming— | 10 |
| With smiles that might as well be tears, | |
| So faint, so sad their beaming; | |
| While memory brings us back again | |
| Each earthly tie that twined us, | |
| Oh, sweet’s the cup that circles then | 15 |
| To those we’ve left behind us. | |
| |
| And when, in other climes, we meet | |
| Some isle or vale enchanting, | |
| Where all looks flowery, wild and sweet, | |
| And nought but love is wanting; | 20 |
| We think how great had been our bliss, | |
| If Heaven had but assigned us | |
| To live and die in scenes like this, | |
| With some we’ve left behind us. | |
| |
| As travellers oft look back at eve, | 25 |
| When eastward darkly going, | |
| To gaze upon that light they leave, | |
| Still faint behind them glowing— | |
| So, when the close of pleasure’s day | |
| To gloom hath near consigned us, | 30 |
| We turn to catch one fading ray | |
| Of joy that’s left behind us. | |
| |
